


the fell clutch of circumstance

by anonymousAlchemist, emi_rose



Series: periapsis [2]
Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Angst, Depression, Forgiveness, Gen, Implied/Referenced Suicide, aka another entry in the taako and lucretia talk postcanon genre, can you imagine?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-26 02:05:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13225893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anonymousAlchemist/pseuds/anonymousAlchemist, https://archiveofourown.org/users/emi_rose/pseuds/emi_rose
Summary: “Don’t see you at these much,” Taako says, leaning against the railing. The moon is high and silvers the beach spread out beneath Merle’s home. There are bonfires down there, and people laughing.“I could say the same for you,” Lucretia replies, trying not to look at him, putting her weight on the railing to take it off her aching back and staring off into the middle distance. She doesn’t want to see the revelry, not now, at least.He shrugs. That’s on purpose. Taako has spent most of the last year trying to avoid her. “So how you been?”Lucretia shrugs and makes a noncommittal noise. “I’m still kicking, I suppose.” She sighs and takes a drink of her magically chilled wine.





	the fell clutch of circumstance

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE READ THE TAGS. this fic continues from _tell me about your despair, yours, and i will tell you mine_ and pulls similarly few punches.
> 
> emi wrote the lucretia bits, iz wrote the taako bits, same as last time.

“Don’t see you at these much,” Taako says, leaning against the railing. The moon is high and silvers the beach spread out beneath Merle’s home. There are bonfires down there, and people laughing. 

“I could say the same for you,” Lucretia replies, trying not to look at him, putting her weight on the railing to take it off her aching back and staring off into the middle distance. She doesn’t want to see the revelry, not now, at least.

He shrugs. That’s on purpose. Taako has spent most of the last year trying to avoid her. “So how you been?” 

Lucretia shrugs and makes a noncommittal noise. “I’m still kicking, I suppose.” She sighs and takes a drink of her magically chilled wine. 

“Ooh, gimme some of that,” he says, motioning for her to hand him the bottle. “Better than not, I guess. Hey, you tell Maggie about the whole s-u-i-c-i-d-e thing?” He says each letter individually. 

She rolls her eyes and scoffs. “It’s not like Fantasy Beetlejuice, it doesn’t happen when you say the word.” 

“Well, fuck, guess cha’boy’s been being careful for nothin’,” he says, still motioning for her to hand him the booze. “So you haven’t said anything.” 

She takes another drink and hands the bottle to him. It’s slightly nicer than her usual fare, as the occasion necessitates. “After the last bomb I dropped on him?” 

“Hey, listen. All I’m sayin’ is that honesty’s the foundation of any good relationship — and that’s a  _ Taako Time  _ original.” 

He takes the bottle from her and drinks directly from the opening. “Mm. Key lime.” 

“You  _ still _ haven’t figured out how to undo that spell? Or do you just like Gogurt that much?” She makes a face of mock disgust. 

“Don’t knock it ‘til you try it, homeslice,” Taako says mildly. “At this point, it’d be weirder  _ not  _ to taste key lime.” He takes a long drink to punctuate his argument. 

Lucretia scoffs. “I’ll keep that in mind.” 

“No, but seriously. If Maggie didn’t run screamin’ when you told him about going to his  _ wedding _ , which is, uh, can I just say, masochism much? He’s not gonna go runnin’ if you tell him ‘bout wanting to walk right off the material plane.” Taako shrugs again. “If anyone’s gonna get it, he will. Food for thought.” 

She rolls her eyes and takes the bottle back. “Those are on a bit of a different scale, Taako. It’s one thing for me to go to his wedding which — I suppose yes, a little masochistic — but another to want to die. Besides, you haven’t told  _ your  _ boyfriend about the whole death wish you have going.” 

“Hey,” Taako says, pointing the bottle at her. “That’s my problem, not yours. And which one of us tried, anyway? All I’m sayin’ is that you could do with, what do you call ‘em, a support system or somethin’. And s’not like he didn’t spend the last coupla years tryin’ to get his ass killed, either.” 

Lucretia shakes her head. “Pot, meet kettle. And I think we’ve more than established that our problems are...intertwined. Some —” she waves a hand lazily in the air. “Divine tapestry threads or whatever.”

“Istus works in mysterious ways,” Taako says sardonically. “And what are you talkin’ about, I’m great, well, better than you are, ‘nyway.” 

“I’m not sure anyone who’s suicidal can be categorized as ‘great’, but that’s semantics, I suppose.” She cocks her head towards the door. “We’re almost out of wine.” 

He levers himself upright. “Well that’s a fuckin’ travesty,” he says, and starts walking toward the door. “And I’m not suicidal,” he adds, glancing back at her. 

The interior of Merle’s house is quiet, the party having moved to the shore. 

She closes the door behind them, kicks off her shoes, and looks at him with the glare he came to know when she was his boss, the one that informed him she was done with their bullshit. “You literally said last week when I — you made it quite clear that you wanted to, quote unquote, beef it.”

“Yeah, but I’m not gonna like,  _ do _ , anything,” he says, sprawling across one of the many low couches in the room. “So we  _ good. _ ” 

“That’s not the point,” Lucretia says, hunting through the fridge for strawberries. “Can I make you one?” 

“Oh, fuck yes,” Taako says, looking up from the couch. 

Despite the fact that it’ll taste like plastic-infused yogurt , Lucretia muddles strawberries and mint she picks from the window box, adds a generous pour of strawberry rum that she hopes is fair game, and tops their glasses off with a splash of sparkling wine, stolen from a champagne flute. She hands Taako his drink and sits down gingerly at his feet. She takes a thoughtful sip and drapes herself over the arm of the sofa. 

Taako transmutes a spare napkin into a spoon and awkwardly spoons some of the drink into his mouth. He catches Lucretia staring. “What? It doesn’t count as drinking if I use a spoon — this is pretty good, by the way. Nice goin’.” 

Lucretia shakes off the memories that come unbidden - of how many dumb iterations he must have tried with Lup to figure out the strictures of the gogurt curse - and offers a smile. “Thanks. Coming from you, that’s something.” 

He smiles back at her. He had missed her, really, and he’s loose enough from the alcohol to shove the hurt to the back of his head. Pretend that this is twenty years ago and the only thing they had to worry about was the next world they were going to save. Maybe he could do this forever, even if he never forgives her. 

She fixes him with a hard gaze. “Last time we talked you made it all about me. Why do you want to kill yourself?” 

“I don’t wanna kill myself,” he says, the words falling out of his mouth by rote. “Me? I’m fine. Cha’boy’s good.” 

Lucretia rolls her eyes. “Do we have to go through this charade again?” The fizzy feeling on his tongue isn’t just the sparkling wine, anymore. 

“Luce, what the hell?” Taako says, turning toward her, his brow furrowed, his mouth tight. “You didn’t have to do that.” 

“I’ve spent enough time with you to know when you’re lying. Out with it.” 

“Nuh-uh! Why d’you wanna know, anyway? I already toldja, I’m not plannin’ on offin’ it,” he says, folding his knees to his chest. 

“Planning and wanting are different things.” She folds her arms and sits up straighter. “You’ve thought about  _ logistics _ way too much for someone with a casual interest.” 

“I’m under Zone of Truth here, whaddaya want from me?” he snaps. “I’m. Not. Plannin’. On. Dyin’. Okay?” 

Lucretia puts her hands up in a gesture of surrender. “Okay, okay, I get that you’re not planning anything, and I’m not gonna  _ Prismatic Wall _ your ass unless that changes, but you’re not answering me. Why do you  _ want _ to die?” 

“That’s not, that’s not your problem, alright?!” he says, curling away from her, voice agitated. “I don’t wanna talk about this.” 

She leans forward, carefully avoiding any accidental contact that may spook him out of their weird détente. “I know you  _ think _ you don’t want to talk about this, but you’re  _ definitely  _ the one who brought it up. So…” she trails off, looks at him expectantly. 

“That was an accident,” he says. 

“Was it?” She’s incisive, as always, even a few drinks deep. 

“Y—” the word dies on his tongue. “Oh, fuck you.” 

“Blame Merle for teaching me that one. Why me?”

“Iunno, cause you get it? Cause I thought you wouldn’t give me the  _ fucking fourth degree _ ?” 

Lucretia rolls her eyes. “I’m just returning the favor. Does Lup know?” 

“Lup doesn’t need to know about this shit!’ he snaps. 

“ _ Really? _ She doesn’t?”

“It’s my problem, not hers, and it’s not Lup’s fault if her idiot brother can’t keep a lid on his fucked up emotional issues,” he says. 

“Taako. She’s your sister.” She fixes him with a sharp stare.

“And it’s my problem, not hers, alright? What the fuck is she gonna do about it?” 

“You think she doesn’t care about you?  _ Please. _ ” Lucretia is unblinking. 

“Of course she cares about me, she’s  _ Lup _ ,” he says. “And if I tell her, she’s gonna like, she’s gonna look at me the way she looked at me when I told her about Glamour Springs, and then she’s gonna tell Barry, and then she’s gonna tell Kravitz, and then they’re all gonna be treatin’ cha’boy like he’s broken.” 

He sits up. He drains the glass. 

Lucretia moves closer to him and puts a tentative hand on his knee. “I don’t think you’re broken, at least, not any more than the rest of us. An asshole to me, sure, really difficult, absolutely, but not  _ broken _ .”

“It’s cool, I’m cool with me being a fuckup,” he says, poking Lucretia’s hand to get her to withdraw it. She pulls her hand back like it’s been burned. “I just don’t want her to look at me like that.” 

“Why? You can’t just hide this from her forever.” 

“I can damn well try!” he snaps. “Isn’t that what you were gonna do?” 

“Stop making this about me! ‘Sides, I’ve only got another coupla decades in me. You two have centuries.”

“Gods, don’t remind me,” he says, leaning back on the couch and staring at the ceiling. 

Lucretia finishes her drink and stands up. “You want another?”

“Mmmmyeah,” he says. She crosses the threshold into the kitchen. “Say, why do you care so much, ‘nyway?” 

She turns, agape, and blinks slowly, thrown off her axis. “Taako, I’ve always cared about you, so, so much. Even when I…” she trails off, and busies herself with another drink. 

“I don't wanna talk about that either,” he announces, abruptly standing. “Hey, you want snacks? I'm gonna make snacks, I want snacks.” 

He stalks over to the fridge, bumping her aside.

“Snacks sound good, avoiding this conversation doesn’t. I care about you and want to work this out, end of story,” she announces. 

“Work  _ what  _ out?” he says, pulling cheese, tomatoes, sour cream out of the fridge. “Which one of our  _ five thousand  _ issues are you referring to?”

He dumps the ingredients on the counter and goes rummaging in the cupboard, a little unsteady, alcohol starting to rush to his head. 

“If we’re talkin’ your  _ criminal  _ misuse of Maggie’s jellyfish son, then, I've pretty much said all I wanna about that.” 

Lucretia rolls her eyes. “Yeah, I’m well aware, think about that every day, can’t sleep, etcetera. But this isn’t. About. Me. Right. Now.” She leans on the counter.

“Can we not do this right now?” Taako says, quieter than everything else he's said tonight. “Can we just, can I just make these nachos and you make whatever you're making, and I haven't walked out yet, so can you  _ please  _ not make me do this?” 

Lucretia acquiesces with a nod and closed eyes, at least for the moment. She focuses on the calm camaraderie of being in the kitchen with him again, without sharp barbs flying over sharper knives. It’s almost peaceful. 

Taako exhales. He pours chips on a plate, hands steady. He snaps his fingers and cheese shreds itself and melts onto the chips. It's too late for anything more complicated, and sometimes you just need something easy. 

Outside, the sound of the surf pounding on the beach wafts inside. The party must be wrapping up.

“I didn't wanna die, when we were on the Starblaster,” Taako says. 

Lucretia hesitates, not wanting to push him away or start another screaming match. She’s so tired of that. She settles for a noise of assent, a nod, and a long drink. She sits on the end of the couch, leaving an unspoken invitation. 

He glances up, dolloping salsa and sour cream on the nachos haphazardly. He should have, could have, made the tortilla chips from scratch, the salsa, combined cheese and bechamel to make a sauce, added more shredded cheese, smashed an avocado — but he’s so damn tired. 

“Yeah, that's all. I didn't wanna die then, which was real fuckin’ ironic considering sometimes that's all we did.” 

Taako picks up the plate and brings it over with him to the couch. 

“Not even when Lup died?” Lucretia swipes a chip from the plate and crunches thoughtfully. 

He doesn't say anything. 

Lup only died without him once, before getting lich’ed. It was early in the cycles - they had still been holding funerals. She died fighting, in a battle Taako hadn't been at. He doesn't like to think about that year. 

“I was there, you know, and, gods, we were so young, I blamed myself for not being faster, more powerful, whatever,” Lucretia says quietly. 

“I wasn't even  _ there _ ,” Taako says. “What does it matter, anyway - she's alive and she's immortal and it doesn't  _ ma-” _

The words die on his lips, magic crackling. 

“You had to live alone for the first time, and that matters.” She bites her tongue, stopping the flood of self-flagellation that usually follows anything about Lup. 

He scowls. “I had you dipshits, and sure it wasn't great, but.” 

Taako hadn't talked for a month after Lup had died. But that was a century ago. 

“Taako, you stopped eating. Stopped talking. You were practically catatonic. We were so worried--” Lucretia stops herself and steadies her heart. She eats more shitty nachos.

He’s got the same cornered look in his eyes that he did then, when she came back with bad news. No one saw him for nine days after that, and Lucretia was more shocked than anyone when he returned from his sojourn, ragged and exhausted. She had assumed that he had found some way to die, to avoid a year alone. That’s what she would have done. She draws her knees as close to her chest as they’ll go and holds them tight. 

“Yeah, well,” he says, and turns his face away from her, smushing it into the couch cushions. 

Lucretia resists the urge to reach out to him. “Did you ever talk to her about it?” she asks, wondering if this will finally prompt him to flee. 

“Not really,” he says. 

“Where did you go?” she asks, genuinely curious. 

“Y’know?” he mumbles into the couch, “I don’t remember. I just wanted to, I couldn’t stand being where her  _ stuff _ was, y’know? And it’s not like we’re like,  _ conjoined, _ and I just kinda, I kinda just wanted to forget she was gone.”

He turns his face toward her, mouth drawn into a rictus facsimile of a grin. 

“Dramatic irony, huh?” 

Lucretia’s stomach twists, alcohol and nachos churning, yet another thing she didn’t have to worry about while eternally nineteen. She ignores it and downs her drink. “Chekov’s jellyfish, yeah,” she says, sardonic. 

He snorts. “Good one.” He reaches haphazardly out to pick up a chip. “It worked out. She’s alive and you’re alive and I’m alive and everyone’s alive, and we saved the world an’ we’re heroes.” 

She sighs. “I suppose we are all alive. Better than the alternative.” 

Taako shrugs. He isn’t sure what will come out of his mouth if he tries to speak. 

“Which was the first cycle you killed yourself?” she asks, faux casual. 

“Twenty-four, when I got captured by those dicks who had like, you know, the bug eyes? You know, the bug eye weird dudes, with the real nasty knack for torture,” Taako says promptly. “Couldn’t let ‘em know we had the light, figured I’d just take a break.” 

“That doesn’t really count, though. ‘Least, it’s not like the time I —” she cuts herself off, too cognizant of the heady mix of alcohol and zone of truth. 

“Y’know, I never got the point of that,” he says, squinting at her. “You knew you were comin’ back.” 

Lucretia lets herself go cross-legged. “You dissociated, I beefed it. We all coped.” 

“Cha’boy didn’t — okay, I did,” he says, magic pinpricks on his lips. He glares at her. “Hey, what the fuck, I didn’t know you knew about that.” 

She just raises one eyebrow. “I know from dissociation, Taako.” 

“I thought I was doin’ a pretty good job of keeping it under wraps,” he says, a little distantly. 

“We spent a hundred years together, and you’re no illusion mage,” she says calmly. “Besides, I spent an entire cycle dissociated. I’m  _ more than familiar _ .”

“Aw, jeez,” he says. He curls up a little tighter where he’s lying on the couch. “That sucks.” 

She scoots closer to him. “It does. Why are you being so difficult about this?” She fixes him with a steely glare. 

“About what?” His ears go flat against his head, but he doesn’t move away. 

“The fact that you want to die, and the talking about it.” 

“I dunno Luce, it’s not like it’s fun to talk about! For fucks sake, I wanna die, I’m not gonna die, what else do you need to know!” 

“You think this is fun for me either? Shit.” 

“Then stop asking!” 

“I would if I could manage to stop caring about you!” 

“...Yeah, well, whole fuckin’ world would be a lot easier if we could all stop caring.” 

Taako very much wants another drink. He sniffs. He’s not crying. He’s maybe a little bit drunk. And sad, but that’s allowed, he’s a person, with feelings and everything. 

“Easier because it wouldn’t be here,” she says, matter of fact. Lucretia stands up, cracks her back, and begins rummaging around in the kitchen. 

“Is it fucked up if sometimes I wish it wasn’t?” 

“Yeah. But I know what you mean.” 

“Did you ever think about how everything was gonna end?” he says. 

She pauses, raises an eyebrow. “Every year. Or did you mean...this?” she makes an indistinct gesture and busies her hands again. 

“I mean like, y’know, this,” he says, waving expansively. “Like, after we beat the Hunger, or whatever, or if we like, just all got vored. Y’know? Not gonna lie, cha’boy used to think about it a lot.” 

He pauses. 

“Iunno why I’m bringin’ this up.” 

“Because you clearly need to talk about it?” 

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” he says petulantly. 

“Want and need are different things, Taako. You don’t have to talk to  _ me _ , gods, I know you hate me and all that, but at least talk to  _ someone _ .” She leans her elbows on the counter, chin resting on steepled fingers. Her nuclear option is becoming increasingly appealing, and her frustration is no longer quelled by fruity drinks.

“Y’know, I don't see why I gotta? It's not like that's gonna change anything, and it's like, it's like  _ not fun, _ and it's not  _ funny _ , and it's s-o-o not on brand,” he says, trying to grasp his earlier flip tone. “An’ I don't hate you. Mostly. Still pissed, though.” 

Lucretia stares him down. “Who would have thought. Wanting to die isn’t funny. You can’t ignore your problems forever, you know.” She cocks her head and doesn’t break her gaze.  

“Can’t I?” 

He phrases it as a question. He doesn’t know if it would stand as a statement. 

“This is ridiculous. I’m calling your sister.” She pulls her necklace out of her caftan. 

“Woah hey no nonono—” Taako says, bolting upright, scrambling out of his seat to lunge at her, wide eyed. “You can’t—” 

She sidesteps him deftly. “Hello, Lup, dear, do you have a minute?” 

“Nonono, fuck you Lucretia, you can’t do this to me,” he says frantically, grabbing her shoulder and pawing at her hand, trying to pry her fingers apart. “I’ll talk, alright? I’ll talk!” 

Lucretia turns and dips, sliding out from under his hand. “Of course, that’s quite important.” She pauses to listen, smiling almost wolfishly. “Yes. See you then.” She turns to face Taako, and resists her younger self’s urge to hop up on the countertop, instead, settles for a languid sip of her drink. “You’re lucky she’s currently occupied. You’ve got about, oh, half an hour before she shows up.  _ Capisce _ ?” 

Taako just stares at her, hand dropping from where he had been trying to grab her stone. “Why do you have to be so  _ damn _ controlling!” He shakes his head. “Fuck this, I’m leaving.” 

He starts walking back out to the balcony, where the stairs connect to the boardwalk and the beach. 

“I look forward to explaining your death wish to Lup. Maybe she’ll bring your boyfriend too? We could have a lovely chat over Merle’s strawberry rum and wine.” She fixes him with another hard stare. She’s not backing down, not this time. She’s acquiesced to his whims enough. 

“Seriously?” he says, incredulous, pivoting on his heel. “Seriously? You’re seriously doing this. Fuck, you are serious. Seriously? Fine! Maybe I should just call Mags and this can be a  _ real  _ clusterfuck!” 

He’s practically shouting as he stomps over to the couch and sits heavily on it, crossing his arms and glaring at her. 

“You want to have family confession hour? Sure, call Mags, call Angus, let’s just get  _ everything _ out there, why don’t we?” 

“Fine! Let’s do that! Let’s have fucking  _ family confession hour! _ Why the fuck not! Hey, hey guys? Guess what? Cha’girl wants to die,” he says, miming pointing at her, pretending there’s a crowd, “And cha’boy wants to die!” 

He rounds on her. “And what the fuck will that accomplish? Do you wanna be on  _ suicide watch, _ Luce, cause uh, if I’m goin’ down, so are you!” 

“Won’t be the first time,” she murmurs. “Or we could  _ talk about it _ , like normal people. We’re  _ theoretically _ capable of that, hm? Or would it kill you to be honest?” She sits down heavily, stealing the spot he’d just vacated. 

“If I talk, will you promise not to tell anyone?” He’s standing, staring down at her, but the slump of his shoulders makes him small. 

Lucretia nods, dead serious. “Promise,” she says, matching his gaze. 

He exhales sharply, and walks over to the counter. He picks up the bottle of strawberry rum and takes a pull. He brings it back with him to the couch, and sits down next to her, not looking at her. “Fine.” 

She reaches out for the bottle and bites her tongue, listening expectantly. 

Taako fidgets. “I dunno whatcha want me to say, this is kinda wigging me out right now,” he says. 

Lucretia takes a deep breath. “I don’t want anything, really, take your time,” she says. 

He takes a long drink of the bottle, and hands it to her. 

“Y’know,” he says pensively. “I used to do a fuckton of coke, didja know that?” 

Lucretia pinches the bridge of her nose. “You did  _ what _ ? Why?” She sighs and fidgets with the handwritten label on the bottle. 

“Eh, it was when I was touring — it’s  _ real  _ easy to get that shit when you’re on TV, turns out. Like, half the time I didn’t even  _ ask _ for it, it’s just like, you know? You know a guy, who knows a guy, and if you’ve got the gold to blow…” He trails off. “Iunno, it was better than not doing it. Like, y’know what you did to me, Luce? When you burned Lup out — oh, stop makin’ that face, I’m just being honest, this isn’t about your weird guilt issues — you kinda, iunno, I didn’t care about anything.” 

He shivers, and not because it’s cold. “It felt normal, then.” 

She puts a tentative arm around him, and grabs a blanket. “Are you cold?” She chooses to ignore his comment about her guilt issues, valid as it may be, in favor of keeping the peace.  

“I’m always cold,” he says, making grabby hands for the blanket. “S’getting late. But yeah. Turns out when you burn out half a guy’s brain, he ends up daydreamin’ about nonexistence all the time cause nothing feels real. And, and, it’s not like I wanted to die, even, ‘cept I couldn’t stop thinking about it. S’why I thought I poisoned those people, y’know? I’d been thinkin’ about elderberries  _ all day. _ And the coke helped, sorta, cause then everything went so fast that it stopped feeling like nothing.” 

“I know what you mean. Turns out when you burn out someone else’s brain, you  _ also _ end up daydreaming about dying all the time.” She covers her bare feet with the blanket.

“Least you didn’t getta drug habit. Got you beat there.” 

Lucretia laughs, shining through for just a moment. “Fair enough.” Her face drops, serious again. “So why do you still want to die?” 

“I don’t know,” he says. It’s the truth. “I have no fucking idea, isn’t that stupid? It’s just like, I’ll be going about my day, and its chill and its good and cha’boy’s fine and good, and then, just, kinda, it’s like, everything’s fuckin’ awful and I want to be dead, and then I can’t get the thought outta my head, and, and, yeah. Fuck.” 

“At least I have a reason. Most people do. So...gotcha beat there?” She smiles but it doesn’t reach her eyes, which are welling up almost imperceptibly. 

“That’s a godawful contest to win,” he says, and scrubs at his own eyes. “Aw, shit. Promised myself I wouldn’t cry.” 

She sniffles quietly. “We can say we tried, at least.” 

He opens his arms for a hug. “I still h— ow! Fuckin’ zone of truth.” 

Lucretia hesitates for a moment before reciprocating. “You don’t hate me?” she mumbles into his shoulder.

“Don’t make me say it,” he says, blinking away tears he refuses to acknowledge. “I‘m still mad.” 

“Join the club. We meet on Tuesdays. There’s tea…”

“Sure, why the fuck not, I’ll bring macarons.”

“That would be delightful. Mine aren’t half as baller as yours.” She rests her head on his shoulder and closes her eyes in thought.

“Course they’re not, I’m  _ Taako _ ,” he mumbles. 

Lucretia doesn’t respond. She’s already asleep, breathing deeply, snuggled under the blanket. 

Lup arrives several hours later, stepping into the room through a rift in spacetime with an apology. “Sorry babe, work went later than I --” but she is struck dumb by the sight of her brother and Lucretia passed out on the couch together, empty bottle of rum on the table. “Damn, okay then.”

“Well, that’s a throwback,” she whispers, walking carefully over to inspect their sleeping forms. She adjusts the blanket so it covers them more thoroughly. They’re going to have awful headaches when they wake up, probably. They’ll be grateful they got trashed at a cleric’s house, however inept said cleric may be. She leaves two glasses of water on the coffee table and leaves as quietly as she can manage.

The next morning, Merle clatters into the living room and knocks over both glasses of water in his surprise. Lucretia and Taako awaken and immediately spring apart, groaning at the sudden movement and bright light. 

“Ya drank all my damn rum, but I suppose it’s fine,” he grouches while easing their hangovers, secretly deeply pleased that they’d chosen to talk and not blow up his kitchen. A bottle of rum was a fair price to pay. 

**Author's Note:**

> liner notes available here  
> nacho generator available [here](http://www.seriouseats.com/2017/03/interactive-nacho-recipe-generator.html)  
> iz is @[anonymousalchemist](http://anonymousalchemist.tumblr.com/) and emi @[emi--rose](https://emi--rose.tumblr.com/)  
> title is from william ernest henley's _invictus_.  
> 


End file.
